


loyal cantons of contemned love

by willowcabins



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, she's the man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s the Man AU: Fitz is busy working for the government, so convinces his step sister Jemma to attend his new fancy private school for him for two weeks. Jemma, rooming with Ward, is tasked to woo Skye. Things get complicated very fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to post this during skimmons week, but then i had a really really shitty week so TA DAh

“Fitz, where are you?”

“Still confidential,” Fitz hissed. The phone line crackled as Jemma sighed dramatically.

“Fitz!” She hissed, closing her bedroom door carefully and then sitting on her bed heavily. “You’re meant to be back tomorrow! I got a call from United this morning telling me you missed your flight!” Jemma could practically _hear_ Fitz gulp at the end of the phone line.

“Well, here’s the thing –” He began. Jemma cut him off.

“No but’s Fitz! School starts on Monday!” She exclaimed.

“See, here’s the thing I don’t understand.” Fitz complained, ignoring Jemma’s comment. “Why does my school start _two weeks_ before yours??” Jemma sighed.

“I don’t know, Fitz. Private schools?” She offered with a shrug. Fitz snorted. Jemma pictured him violently shaking his head.

“That’s not a good answer.”

“Fitz,” she warned. He sighed (louder this time).

“Look, Jemma, I’m nearly done with my prototype. It needs another week, and then I’ll have a gun that can shoot any type of projectile bullets.” His voice automatically got more animated as he re-explained his prototype. Jemma bit her lip, and then tilted her head thoughtfully.

“Is this still the project you codenamed Midnight?” She asked, a teasing note in her voice. Fitz didn’t miss it.

“They said I could name it _whatever_ ,” he tried to defend himself. Jemma grinned.

“So you chose ‘Midnight’?” She continued. There was a loud ‘humph’ on the other end of the phone line.

“Well, they said they were going to change the name of the final product,” Fitz admitted. “If it became useable,” he added quickly, as if not to jinx it.

“You mean a ‘night night gun’ doesn’t sound dramatic enough for the military?” Jemma teased.

“I don’t understand _why_ the military needs to be dramatic…” Fitz whined. Jemma grinned, but then caught sight of the pamphlet of Fitz’s school. She picked it up slowly and sighed.

“Stop changing the subject, Fitz.” She muttered. “School starts. They will expect their star student to be there. They _did_ give you a full scholarship.” Fitz hummed thoughtfully.

“Can you call them?” He asked cautiously. “Sound like Mom and make up some elaborate excuse?” Jemma dropped the pamphlet and scoffed.

“Sorry, my dumb step brother is building things for the military?” She said, adopting a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like their mother. Fitz snorted, and then sighed.

“Eh. Good point.” He sighed loudly again. And then he squeaked, as if he had had some genius idea. “Go instead of me!”

“No,” she replied flatly and immediately.

“Jemma!” He whined.

“I am _not_ your geek monkey Fitz.”

“Of course you’re not a monkey, Jemma. You’re too evolved.”

“Thanks for that, Fitz,” Jemma muttered dryly. Fitz laughed.

“Come on, Jemma! Think of it as a mission! Like spies!”

“I _hate_ undercover, Fitz,” Jemma complained. Fitz laughed again.

“But you excel at preparation!” He assured her. “It will be a challenge to be me, anyway.” Jemma scoffed.

“A challenge?” She repeated, sarcastically.

“I _am_ better at physics than you,” Fitz claimed defensively. “But still. You can do it!”

“They’re going to realise. Really fast.”

“They haven’t met me yet!”

“But they do think you’re a boy!”

“Oh. Good point.”

“I can’t be a boy.”

“You don’t have to be me for _long_.” Fitz whined. Jemma wanted to growl.

“Two weeks, Fitz!” She hissed, frustrated.

“I’ll try and come back sooner?” Fitz offered.

“Sooner? Fitz -” Before she could offer another protest, Fitz interrupted her.

“Oh shit. I got to go. You know how strict they are about personal calls…”

“Fitz!” She protested. But there was a shuffle, and then a quick:

“Have fun, Jemma!” and then the line went dead. Jemma wanted to throw her phone against the wall in frustration. Instead she dramatically lay back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“Jemma, was that your brother?” Jemma’s mother poked her head into Jemma’s bedroom. Jemma immediately plastered a false smile on her face, sitting up and nodding at her mother.

“It was! He’s slightly delayed in Denver, but he’ll be at school Monday!” She chirped, forced smile wavering carefully. Her mother didn’t notice; she was busily doing up the cufflinks on her blouse. She looked up and shot a smile at Jemma before she came into Jemma’s room to examine herself in Jemma’s mirror.

“Great! I have to go to Canada for the next two weeks now –” She began. Jemma blinked in surprise.

“Why?” She asked. Jemma’s mother found her daughter’s gaze in the mirror and smiled softly.

“I’m giving a talk at the University of Toronto about my research about fructose intolerance, remember? And then I’m going to Vancouver for the conference on hereditary dietary health issues,” She explained, turning around and tilting her head. Jemma nodded absently, staring at her bedspread.

“That’s this week?” She muttered, surprised.

“Yes! Dr. Po and Mr. Quinn will be there, so I need to impress them and let them now their funding is being well used. Do I look okay?” She had straightened her pencil skirt. Jemma nodded and tried to smile again.

“Yes, of course, Mum.” Jemma’s mother frowned; she could tell her daughter was troubled. She assumed Jemma was troubled about her absence, and just came forward to kiss Jemma on the forehead.

“Don’t worry about it, Jemma. Margot said you could come to the lab anytime you wanted until school started again…” Margot was Jemma’s mother’s fellow researcher. Jemma nodded absently.

“Thanks Mum. I’ll be fine,” Jemma assured her mother, leaning into her mother’s hand as her mother cupped her cheek. Her mother smiled.

“I know you will, darling,” she murmured tenderly. She pulled back her hand and checked her watch. “Fudge, I have to go catch my plane. If you need anything, call your father!”

“Okay, Mum. Bye! Have fun.”

“Text me!” And with that, Mrs. Simmons was gone. Jemma sighed. She picked up the pamphlet again. She might just have to go to school for Fitz for a week. Thank _god_ he was new there. She could not imitate a Scottish accent for the life of her.

“Illyria Public School: First in science, fourth in sport.” Things could be worse, Jemma decided. She had better start working on her disguise though.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Illyria: a school for rich white kids and its assorted cast of not rich white kids.

“Are you sure I look like a boy, Trip?”

"You look like a boy, I _promise_ ," Trip assured Jemma for the fourth time. "A pretty good looking one at that. I think you just made me question my sexuality."

"Oh shush you. I need to be convincing."

"You _are_ convincing! Now, stop fiddling with your wig."

"I'm not fiddling with it."

"I told you it would be easier to cut your hair."

"I'm _not_ going to cut my hair, Trip."

"I just said it was _easier_."

"This is all Fitz's fault. I hate him."

"Don't hate him. He just got excited about guns."

"Typical man." Trip coughed loudly. "You're exempt for that, of course." Jemma added quickly. Trip laughed.

"I would _hope_ so. I am driving you to school."

"You make it sound so heroic. You're giving me a _lift_ to school. You go here too now."

"I know, it’s weird, right?"

"That they gave you a scholarship too?"

"This school has a shit soccer team. I have no idea why they are so determined to have me on it."

"Because you're an amazing player?"

"I think it’s actually because they want to inject some colour into their all white environment." Jemma snorted.

"That too, probably." She agreed, staring out of the window. They passed the sign that said "WELCOME TO ILLYRIA" in all capitals, but the school building was still out of sight.

"This place is too rich. Look at how much unused land they have. Someone should use it."

"Or perhaps they want some nature there?" Jemma snorted.

"Rich white men have no time for nature, Trip."

"Neither do tiny cross-dressing biophysicists, it seems."

"Shush you." Trip laughed. Finally the building came into view. It was a large modern building, built in the 1970s. Jemma didn't like it, though she admitted it wasn't ugly. She sighed heavily, and then nodded towards the sign that directed 'NEW BORDERS' to the left. Trip followed the signs. There was a crowd of people next to a table that said 'CHECK IN'.

"You get out here. I'll park the car and bring you your stuff."

"That won't make me look very masculine, will it?" She fretted.

"Just go, Jemma."

"Not Jemma. It's _Jimmy_ now."

"Poor Fitz. He's going to have an identity crisis when he arrives."

"Serves him right. Just remember. My name is Leo 'Jimmy' Fitz."

"I really look forward to you explaining that one. But go, I'll catch up with you." Jemma nodded, and stepped out of the car. The area was busy. Even if she wasn't trying to fool a multi-millionaire institution she would have been nervous to be here. She swallowed, and marched up to the desk authoritatively.

"Hello, my name is Fitz." She said, voice dropping a couple of octaves.

"Hello Fitz!" A young rotund man said excitedly. "My name is Eric Koenig and I will be your floor fellow this year. Here is your 'welcome pack', including your rape whistle. If you prove yourself to be a stellar student you can receive a lanyard too. But those only go to the best students." Jemma nodded mutely, accepting the manila envelope carefully.

"Hello Eric," she whispered, terrified.

"Your roommate will be Graham Ward."

"I have a roommate?!" Jemma squeaked. Eric blinked, surprised by her noticeably high pitched exclamation. Jemma loudly cleared her throat. "I mean, I didn't know I had a roommate," she repeated in her faux masculine voice. Eric smiled brightly.

"All first years at Illyria have roommates! Anyway, Billy Koeing, my brother will be showing you to your dorm room."

An exact copy of the boy had appeared at Jemma's elbow and began pulling at her arm. "It's right this way," he said excitedly. "Now, I'm sure you want to know how to earn a lanyard. Let me _tell_ you...."

The walk from the sign in desk to the dorms spanned most of campus, so it took a solid fifteen minutes. After Billy Koenig had exhausted himself about the lanyards, he began to tell Jemma what buildings they were passing. "Your schedule is in your welcome pack," he added at some point. Jemma gulped and nodded. They walked passed the science labs, which Koenig proudly boasted about, explaining they were the most extensive and equipment rich science labs any high school owned in a tri-state area. "Rich white men", Jemma thought to herself scathingly, though she couldn't help the creeping excitement as she glanced in through the glass windows. They really _were_ exquisite. The biology lab especially seemed to have nearly as much equipment as her mother's university lab. Jemma tried to ask Koenig some questions about it, but he just shot her a reproachful glare when she interrupted his carefully preplanned tour.

They finally reached the dorms. Trip was waiting outside the door with Jemma's bag. Koenig nodded at him. "You must be Antoine Triplett," he said, stretching out his hand. Trip straightened up and, raising an eyebrow at Jemma, shook his head.

"How do you know me?" he asked. Koenig pushed his chest forward with pride.

"The coach has been delighted to add you to our team. He says that with you and Ward we might even win some games this season."

"Really?"

"Wait, I thought you were fourth in sport!" Jemma said, surprised. Koenig frowned, almost guilty.

"We are," he admitted, punching in the code for the boarding house and opening the door for the two of them. "But the sports we win in are sports such as polo, equestrian showmanship and golf."

"They have the worst scores in soccer and football imaginable," Trip added. Jemma laughed despite herself.

"You're definitely going to have a lot of fun here, Tripp," she assured him.

"He will!" Koenig huffed defensively. "As I said, it looks like we will have a _great_ season ahead of us."

"Anyway, this is you, Antoine."

"Call me Trip."

"This is your room, Trip. You're sharing it with Dan Monroe."

"Okay. See you around Je-" he caught himself –“ Jimmy!" Jemma sent him a withering look.

"Bye Trip," she muttered, trying to maintain the depth of her voice when she was muttering. Koeing didn't seem to notice.

"You're right here too, Jimmy." He said happily, gesturing to a door. "Ward is already here, so you two can get to know each other."

"Excellent," Jemma chirped and walked in.

A young man was sitting on the bed, shirtless. Jemma tilted her head, giving him a cursory once over. He had some spectacular abs, and as he looked up to catch Jemma staring, he smirked at her. "You must be Leo Fitz," he said, holding out his hand. Jemma dropped her bags carefully and stepped forward.

"Call me Jimmy," she said, coughing. Ward raised an eyebrow.

"Jimmy?" He asked, incredulous.

"It's what my friends call me. Called me. I mean, it's my nickname."

"Well, I don't want to rob you of that. I'm just Ward."

"I have heard about you." Jemma blushed immediately. "I mean, Koeing told me about you." She corrected herself. Ward smirked and pulled on a shirt.

"Which one?" He asked. Jemma swallowed.

"I'm not - sure..." she admitted. He laughed.

"Don't worry about the Koeing brothers. They pretty much exist to confuse you. Anyway, you're here on a science scholarship, right?"

"Yes!" It was too natural; Ward looked up, confused at the change in tone. Jemma coughed, and sat down at the edge of her bed and looked down at her feet. "I mean, yes," she repeated, trying to make her voice sound masculine again. "I am here on a physics scholarship."

"Neat. I'm in AP Chem this year."

"Really?" Jemma pulled out her schedule. "At 1100 with Professor May?"

"Yup! That's me. She's meant to be a _legend_."

"I know. I read some of her research...."

"No, I mean she's also an athletic legend."

"What?" Jemma stared up at Ward in confusion. He grinned and settled back on his bed, leaning forward conspiratorially.

"She was this amazing horse rider back in her day. That's why they call her the Calvary." Jemma tried not to look incredulous.

"Who calls her that?" She asked sceptically.

"Everyone!" Ward exclaimed excitedly. Jemma frowned.

"Oh. I didn't know.... I just really liked her research on acidity."

"Well, that's a bit too nerdy for me," Ward admitted with a crooked smile. Jemma couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Well, I'm excited to have a class with you though. At least not everyone will be strange. What does the rest of your schedule look like?" Ward raised an eyebrow, clearly thrown off by the affectionate nature of his roommate. But he shrugged, and handed Jemma his schedule.

"I have most of my morning free because of soccer practice. Chemistry is actually my first class."

"That's strange,"

"Well, actually, Principle Coulson is a leading researcher in child psychology, and he organized our schedules like this because your brain functions best when you have enough sleep. He gave us a lecture about it last semester. It has something to do with a drug called Melatinny."

"A hormone called Melatonin," Jemma corrected. Ward waved his hand.

"That," he agreed absently. "Anyway, this way we don't really have early classes." Jemma frowned at her schedule. He was right; her first class was at 9:30.

"That's strange," she muttered. Ward shrugged.

“It’s Illyria. Anyway, I don't mind. I like sleeping," he admitted. Jemma nodded absently and put down the two schedules.

"We don't really have any other classes together," she said, slightly disappointed. Ward shrugged.

"You might have classes with some of my other friends. I'll introduce you at dinner." Jemma lit up.

"Thanks!" She said, grinning enthusiastically. Ward shrugged.

"Whatever," he muttered, settling down on his bed and opening his laptop. Jemma looked down at her bags and at the room around her. It felt dumb to unpack: she would be gone in 2 weeks. And yet. She sighed, and dragged her bag with all her books towards her. She might as well organise all these. Most of these would stay with Fitz anyway.

"Yo! Je-immy!" Trip stumbled into the room. Jemma sent him another withering glare. Ward just chuckled from the bed.

"You really have a lot of nicknames," he commented. Jemma bit her lip.

"Only a normal amount?" She squeaked. Ward smirked, but then went back to scrolling through something on his phone.

"What's up, Trip?" She said with forced joviality.

"I wanted to tell you that they classes start later here?"

"I know, I saw."

"Something to do with a drug called Missatine."

"A hormone called Melatonin, yes."

"Well, it’s _awesome_."

"Was that all?"

"Well, I also finished unpacking. So I'm bored." He sat down on her bed heavily. "Want to go and look at the science labs?" Jemma looked down at her half unpacked bags and shrugged.

"Sure," she said. Ward looked up.

"Dinner is at 7pm." He told them. "Don't be late, because then only the vegetarian option is left and that's shitty."

"Thanks bro."

"Anytime." He went back to his phone.

 

It was a quite a walk from the boarding houses back to the labs, but Jemma didn't mind. She and Trip walked in silence as the afternoon sun made their shadows long. "What do you think of ward?" She asked, grateful that she didn't need to modify her voice. Trip smirked.

"He's quite a dishy roommate," he teased. Jemma rolled her eyes.

"He also seems like an alright guy."

"You mean he isn't a dick?"

"Well, yes. Kind of."

"Well, I am pleased for you. My roommate is very strange and won't stop going on about how much he loves the soccer coach, Coach Garrett."

"Sounds fun."

"It _isn't_."

"I am so happy this place leaves its labs open for so long," Jemma hummed happily as they approached the science building and all the lights were still on. Trip rolled his eyes.

"I don't even know why I am friends with such a nerd queen."

"Nerd _queen_? Really Trip? I feel like here I am more of a Nerd Princess."

"Whatever. They better have computers I can check Facebook with."

"They do. It says so in the brochure."

"I still can't believe you read the whole brochure."

"I told you. I excel at preparation."

"Whatever."

The science building was large and had three stories. the top floor was a large greenhouse, taken care of the botany students and often used by the biology students. Jemma loved the green area, and decided to try and remember it. she hoped it continued to be quiet throughout the semester, because it seemed like an ideal quiet space. Not to mention the wide variety of exotic and complicated plants. "Ah Trip! Look at this Venus flytrap!"

"What about it?"

"Have you ever seen a specimen so large?"

"Is it going to eat me?"

"Are you serious, Trip? It's a plant that ingests insects. It does not even have the right chemicals in its stem to ingest something as large and fibrous as you. Not to mention your bones would not agree with it."

"Well, that comforting. The plant won't eat me because it doesn't like my bones."

"Oh, shush you."

"What's on the second level?"

"Well there are five labs and one computer lab."

"Can we go to the computer lab?"

"Sure. I want to sync my tablet with the school's network anyway."

"Are you going to circumvent it?"

"Not necessarily."

"You are, aren't you?"

"No!"

"God, you _could_ hack the whole school, but you don't."

"I don't know whether I could, Trip. I have not examined the mainframe yet."

"Well, you can examine away. I need to Facebook message my mom that I didn't die on the way here. And that I haven't been lynched yet."

"Trip!"

"Have you seen any other people of colour?"

"Well, not yet! But I've only seen like 4 people."

"Well, of those four I feel like at least one should be a person of colour."

"Go and complain to your mother. I'm going to hook up my tablet." They were standing in front of the computer lab door. It required them to swipe their school ids; they did. The little light lit green, and they walked in.

"Oh fuck!" There was a squeak, and a crash, and a loud swear, and then a young woman jumped up from behind the main desk. She had long brown hair and a captivating smile, and Jemma smiled at her instinctively. She frowned at them. "Hello?" She said, carefully.

"Hi!" Jemma chirped; the girl stared at her, confused. Jemma coughed, and tried again using her _male_ voice. "Hi! I'm Jimmy and this is my friend Trip. We're new here. I'm here on a science scholarship, so I thought I might as well inspect the science labs before supper tonight, and Trip wanted to Facebook message his mom from these computers to complain about -" before she could continue, Trip laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Jemma swallowed, and shut up. The girl was smirking.

"I'm Skye," she introduced herself, trying to lean against the computers in a cool fashion. Jemma swallowed and nodded. Her eyes slid from Jemma to Trip. "What did you want to complain about?" She asked conversationally.

"The beds?" Trip offered with a reassuring smile. Jemma sent him a confused look, but he pushed her forward before she could ask any questions.

“He’s strange?” She offered with a shrug. Skye smirked and stepped forward.

“I’m Skye,” she said conversationally. “I’m also here on a science scholarship.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, computer science more specifically.” Jemma stepped around the desk standing between her and Skye, and then she raised her eyebrow incredulously. On the floor of the computer lab, there was a half de-assembled computer. Jemma looked between the wreckage and Skye. Skye smirked again.

“I’ve been here since 6am, and I was bored,” she offered defensively.  Jemma glanced at Trip, and then back at Skye.

“Check in for boarding students only started at noon,” she said, confused. Skye chuckled bitterly.

“My newest foster family was very excited to get rid of me. They personally called up Coulson and convinced him to let me come earlier.”

“So you decided to take apart a computer?”

“I was bored.”

“I thought computer science was programming.”

“It is.”

“This isn’t programming.”

“Well, I realised I didn’t know how to assemble a computer.”

“So you took it apart?”

“And now I am trying to put it back together again.”

“so you’re saying you broke a computer,” Trip supplied simply. Skye scowled at him.

“I’m fixing it!”

“But you don’t know how!”

“Well, I’m learning, aren’t i? Are _you_ any good at engineering?”

“My brother is,” Jemma offered.

“Does that mean you can help?”

“I can try.” Skye grinned, and Jemma realised she was relieved. She settled down on the floor next to Skye and surveyed the damage.

“This is a wreck,” she said simply. Skye snorted.

“It is,” she agreed.

“I’m going to Facebook message my mother while you two do that.”

“Okay.”

 

Three hours later, they missed dinner and Jemma used up most of the board to draw what she believed a computer circuit _should_ look like. Sadly, the jumble of parts they have carefully laid out on the desk and categorised is missing at least 12 wires according to Jemma’s calculations, and she can’t figure _how_ to patch the power supply to her circuit.

“Well, how about if we rearrange this switch,” Skye was saying, circling one of the switches on the board thoughtfully. “We could patch a wire through there,” she drew another line, “and then illuminate the need for this.” She drew a cross on one of the additions. Jemma shook her head avidly.

“Although I think that would work, we have that addition, so we need to use it.”

“Do we? Why can’t we make it better?”

“Because neither of us knows what that does!”

“Trip!”

“I’m googling it right now,” he sighed. He did _not_ know how he got caught up in this. His stomach was growling and after 9 google searches he had been able to confirm that what they were doing was _very_ against the rules. He sighed. If he _was_ going to break the rules, he might as well do it with Jemma. He tilted his head; he had thought he had heard a door close somewhere. Before he could alert Jemma to this, the door to the computer lab opened.

Skye and Jemma looked up immediately with competing expressions of pure guilt on their faces.

Professor May stood in the doorway, a perfect image of stoic rage. Trip was in half a mind to cower; he resisted the urge, and instead stood tall behind his friends. Professor May let the tense silence longer in the room as she looked around, taking in the intricate diagram of a circuit on the board, and all the assorted pieces on the largest desk, and the gutted computer shell next to it. She tilted her head, and glanced between all three of them.

"Mary Sue Poots, Leopold Fitz and Antoine Triplet." She said their names with ultimate clarity. Each victim nodded as she announced their name (Jemma shot back an amazed gaze at Skye; that was an /awful name). "You missed dinner. And after dinner registration."

"Oh right sorry we got caught up -" Skye began casually, stepping forward. May turned her head slightly, turning the full power of her glare to Skye. Skye shut her mouth slowly.

"Mr. Triplet." Trip shivered. He _knew_ this would happen. He was going to get kicked out on his _first_ day; his mother would be _so_ disappointed in him and he had had been _so_ excited to be important for once.... "You may leave."

"Leave?" Trip stuttered, confused.

"You are evidently blameless in this undertaking. So log out of that computer, and leave." Trip glanced between May and the computer, and then shook his head.

 "No, ma'am, I was helping..."

"You were a complacent bystander. Leave now." He swallowed. Her voice did not leave any budge room.

"Yes, ma'am," he said hoarsely, tripping over his own feet to follow her order. Skye and Jemma watched him go with an envious guilt. He just shrugged at them with an apologetic grimace.

"Why are you taking apart a computer?" She asked, looking between Jemma and Skye.

"Well, I wanted to know how it worked..." Skye began feebly.

"So you opted to destroy expensive school machinery?" May asked, face not indicating any emotion. Jemma swallowed.

"I suggested we take the computer apart," she said quietly. Both Skye and May looked at Jemma suddenly.

"It was your suggestion?" May repeated. Jemma looked down. Her hands were shaking. She gripped them and looked up at May again.

"Yes, it was all my fault," she said. She meant to sound determined and brave; in reality, she sounded small. Her fake deep male voice broke as she quavered on the edge of tears.

"Although chivalrous, that is clearly a lie," Professor May said evenly. "I'm giving you both a week's worth detention in which you will correctly reassemble that computer under my guidance." Skye looked at her, genuinely confused.

"That's all?" She asked, incredulous. Something akin to a smirk crossed Professor May's face for a split second.

"Count yourself lucky," was all she said and then she nodded out of the door. "Bring all of your equipment into my lab. Then go back to the boarding house."

 

Someone had remembered to bring dinner for Jemma, so shared it with Trip. He had had his own, but he professed that he was still starving, and then weird excitement of the day had rendered it completely impossible for Jemma to eat. She pushed away her half eaten lasagna, indicating that Trip should finish it.

"This place is weird," she decided. Ward was showering, so it was just her and Trip in the room. It was nice to go back to using her own voice. Trip smirked.

"You haven't even had your first day and you're already having doubts?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Jemma bit her lip and then shook her head.

"No, I'm not. I wanna be here. Did you see that lab? I don't think Fitz deserves this scholarship!" "Why don't you have one, Jemma?"

"I didn't feel like coming here."

"Why not?"

“Fitz and I do everything together, and I felt like I didn't want to be part of Fitzsimmons _all the time_ anymore. I want to be Jemma Simmons, and brilliant in my own light."

"How is that working out for you?"

"Well, since I transformed from Fitzsimmons into just Fitz, it’s not been going too well." Trip laughed so hard that flecks of lasagna landed on Jemma's bed spread. "Ew!" She shrieked, giggling. That did not help Trip's laughing situation. When he calmed down though, he leaned forward and rested a hand on her arm.

"Listen, Jemma. It’s really important that you remember that even if you're with Fitz, you are _always_ your own person and you're _always_ brilliant in your own light."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: is this fic misandrist????  
> A: trip is a fantastic unicorn petal. so no, since he is perfect, its not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hella fine?” Skye repeated, snorting. “Did you just actually say hella fine out loud?!” Jemma blushed crimson and looked down at her computer circuits again.

"What do you _mean_???"

"I mean what I said. I have detention with her every night this week," Jemma repeated, puzzled at all the incredulous faces staring at her. Was detention a rare thing at this school?

"You have detention with _Skye_?"

"Yes!” Jemma exclaimed sharply. “I do! Why are you so excited about it?" Their leering faces were making her very uncomfortable.

"Dude, Ward is _totally_ in love with Skye," Dan, Trip's roommate, explained with a grin in Jemma's direction.

"What?"

"No! I'm not! I just...kind of like her... Sometimes?"

"Sometimes?" Trip snorted. "You're basically _blushing_ , Ward."

"Shut up, Trip!" Ward growled, leaning over and punching Trip in the shoulder.

"Well, does she know?" Jemma asked, trying to steer the conversation away from physical violence. The table of assorted athletes laughed incredulously in unison.

"Ward is too much of a chicken to talk to her," Dan jeered.

"He tried to talk to her _once_ last semester," Morgan explained.

"It did not go well," Roger added with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

"He nearly peed himself," Dan explained.

"Shut _up_ guys," Ward snapped. "I wasn't _scared_ , I was just feeling sick that day."

"Is that why you went to prom alone?"

"She wasn't going to go _anyway_."

"How do you know if you didn't ask her?" Ward loudly ignored his teammates and turned to Jemma to fix her with a stern look.

"Hey, Jimmy,” he began, tone serious. “Now that you'll be spending lots of time with her _anyway_ , do you think you could ... like... slip in a good word for me?"

"You want me to talk to Skye about you?" Jemma translated, confused.

"Yes!" Ward exclaimed, grinning.

"What do you want me to say?!" Jemma asked, confused.

"I don't know,” Ward muttered.

“That you think Ward really hot?" Morgan offered.

"Wait no that sounds a little gay," Dan pointed out. "She might think that _Jimmy_ is into you."

"Good point," Morgan agreed.

"Tell her you think he’s really amazing?" Roger offered. Jemma glanced between all of them.

"Should I elaborate?” She asked, genuinely curious. “Or would referring to him as amazing be enough?"

"I don't know,” Ward repeated again, staring down at his breakfast and frowning. “What do girls want in a guy?” It seemed to be an earnest question. Before Jemma could respond to Ward though, Roger chimed in.

“ Can't you just show Skye a picture of his abs and leave it at that?" he demanded. Jemma narrowed her eyes at him.

"Probably not.” She said, trying to stay level.

“Girls are slightly more complicated than that," Trip agreed.

“Perhaps a dick pic,” Morgan suggested, sniggering. Ward elbowed him in the side (hard).  

"You know what girls really like?” Dan chimed in. “They like tall, dark and brooding."

"Are you saying I should brood more?" Ward asked Dan sarcastically. Dan laughed.

"Yes, but in her general vicinity. Brood _at_ her."

"This sounds dumb," Ward muttered.

"It _is_ dumb, Ward,” Jemma chimed in again. “I'll talk to her today. See if she has any thoughts about you." Ward grinned at Jemma.

"Do you need any help in...well... sports? I can help you," He tried to offer awkwardly. She smiled at him, genuinely touched at his counter offer.

"Thank you very much," she said politely.

 

Jemma's school day was long and confusing. She was still not used to answering to Fitz, so every time a teacher took attendance in their class and called out Fitz, she'd look around, waiting for Fitz's familiar voice. And then she would realise and reply hastily. Every time, the class would fix her with confused stares, especially when she piped up and whispered "I prefer to be called Jimmy."

Her first class, math, proved to be the most complicated, since Ms. Hill seemed determined to get the reason for the nickname out of Jemma. "But your name is Leopold Fitz. Where does the Jimmy come from?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at Jemma. Jemma shrunk in her seat, resisting the urge to wiggle around her wig to make sure it covered her whole head.

"It's something my friends used to call me," she murmured at the mahogany desk.

"They randomly reassigned you a new name?" Ms. Hill asked, raising an eyebrow. Jemma swallowed, still staring at the desk.

"It was more of a nickname."

"I take issue with that," she said simply. Jemma looked up to meet brown eyes that were now standing right in front of her desk.

"Yes, ma'am," She murmured and sighed heavily.

"Fine, I'll call you Jimmy," Ms. Hill muttered, writing a note in the margin. "Even if it makes no sense," she added quickly afterwards.

Next she had Chemistry with Ward. She recognised no other person in the room, so she sat down next to him. He nodded at her, wet hair in his eyes. Her brushed it back, and explained that this morning's soccer practice had been intense. Jemma didn't care, but she made an effort to listen. Men liked sports, right? She should try and like more sports.

Next, she had computer science. She reached the classroom first, and thus picked herself a prime spot in the first row. She unpacked her bag and sat, ready to take notes, while the rest of the class filtered in. A boy Jemma didn't recognise sat down on her left. He nodded at Jemma politely. She nodded back.

"Hey nerd," a familiar voice said. Jemma looked up, to find Skye sitting on the edge of the desk next to Jemma. Jemma’s chest tightened in a pleasant way and she grinned up at Skye.

“Hey!” She breathed. Then she coughed, because she realised how feminine that sounded. “So, you’re in this Comp Sci class?” She asked, desperately trying to change the topic. “I thought you’d be in AP Comp Sci.” Skye pouted.

“They’re making me take this one first,” she admitted.

“Really?” Jemma asked, surprised. Skye made a face.

“Well, _technically_ I’m only a Junior, and I have _technically_ never take a CompSci class before,” she admitted, rolling her eyes dramatically. Jemma’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“How did you get the scholarship, then?” She asked.

“The application just asked you to create your own program and submit it,” Skye explained.

“And you did that?” Jemma asked. “Without any experience?”

“Yeah, I created a program to compress files.” Skye explained casually. Jemma narrowed her eyes.

“What?”

“Well, it still had a couple of kinks in it, but theoretically if compress over a terabyte of data onto a 4gb memory stick,” Skye explained casually, as if most average 17 year olds with only self taught computer skills could create their own compression formulas.

“That’s impossible!” Jemma gasped. Skye’s grin widened.

“Well, I managed it,” She said, chest puffing out proudly.

“Poots, get off the desk.” Mr. Coulson walked in. Skye rolled her eyes.

“My name is Skye,” she corrected him, slipping from the desk to her chair.

“I know your first name is Skye, but I like to address everyone by their last names,” Coulson replied. He had a friendly warm smile, and Jemma smiled back at him. He tilted his head and looked down on his class list.

“Who are you?” He asked, scanning over the list of face. Jemma swallowed.

“Fitz,” she said, quietly. “Leopold Fitz.” Coulson tilted his head and glanced between Jemma and the picture of Fitz he had on his form.

“Yes, I suppose so,” he murmured. He gave Jemma another sceptical look, and then turned to the class.

“Good afternoon, students,” He began cheerfully. “I’m Phil Coulson, and I will be your teacher this semester. I’m going to assume that you are all well versed enough with a computer to follow simple commands like ‘open a word document’,” there a was a quiet chuckle among the class as Coulson grinned and then continued, “so as of tomorrow we’re going to start going through the an introduction to the programming language used by the program Python. Today I’m going to show you all how to create your own accounts on the school’s system that you can all access remotely so you can do your homework from the boarding house. Though the boarding staff frequently allow you to come to the computer lab if you don’t own a laptop.” There was a scoff from the back of the classroom.

“Who _doesn’t_ own a computer?” A tall boy asked, rolling his eyes. “We’re in the _twenty-first century_.” Jemma looked back, and then glanced at Skye to share an eye-roll with her. But Skye was staring at her desk, blushing and staring at the wood resolutely. Jemma clenched her teeth.

“Idiot,” she muttered. Skye looked up at her and smiled a tiny bit. “I’m here on a scholarship too,” Jemma reminded her. She _did_ have a laptop, but she also shared Skye’s discomfort around most of these people, so she wanted to offer her that.

Skye grinned at her and Jemma felt oddly warmed. She tilted her head and grinned back.

 

“I have a plan.” Jemma was lying on her bed, reading “Python for Beginners” when Ward came in. The rest of her school day had been uneventful, but she was grateful to come back to her dorm room and to find it empty. She was exhausted by constantly having to assure everyone that she truly was “Leopold Fitz.”

She looked over her book. Ward was standing in front of her, sweat soaked and serious. She lowered  her book slowly.

“What is your plan?” She asked carefully. Ward pulled off his soccer jersey and threw it on the bed before sitting down on it and steepling his fingers carefully. He leaned forward.

“I really like Skye,” he admitted laboriously. Jemma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she sat up, crossing her leg and staring at Ward until he continued. “I _really_ like Skye,” he repeated, emphasising the ‘really’ as if it was very important that Jemma understood this. She nodded again.

“I gathered,” she prompted him.

“I _really really_ like Skye.” Jemma nodded again. There was silence. This seemed to be all Ward had wanted to say. Jemma sighed and prodded him.

“Do you want to ask her on a date?” She asked, curious.

“I can’t,” Ward explained levely.

“Why not? Is that against the rules?” Jemma asked, concerned. He snorted.

“No,” he muttered. “it’s just... she’s _Skye_.”

“True,” Jemma agreed. She _was_ Skye.  She didn’t know what Ward meant by that, but it _was_ true. “You already mentioned all this at breakfast though....”

“I wasn’t clear enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... Can you like...ask her out for me?” Ward seemed to say this last sentence laboriously. Jemma tilted her head, and narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“What do you mean?” She asked suspiciously.

“Well, like...can you tell her I really like her? And I want to ask her on a date?

“You want me to woo Skye for you?”

“Well, yes, I suppose...”

“Why don’t you just do it yourself?”

“She’s _Skye_.”

“Again, a tautology.”

“Please, Jimmy?” Jemma sighed. She wanted to get back to reading her book. She had an hour’s worth of detention with Skye after dinner, and she still needed to do the math aptitude test her AP teacher had given them all “to ensure none of you slipped in here unmonitored.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll talk to her in detention.”

“Sweet.” With that, Ward got up again and started stripping. Jemma picked up her book and hid her face behind it as quickly as _physically_ possible. She wasn’t sure whether it was to preserve her eyes, or to hide her creeping blush from Ward.

 

“You know, Ward kinda likes you.” Professor May had explained to Jemma and Skye how to reassemble the circuit board, and then had gone back to sitting at her desk, marking papers. Skye looked up from her section of the circuit board and made a face.

“Grumpy?” She asked. Jemma looked up and her forehead furrowed.

“What?” She asked.

“Some of the girls call Ward Grumpy because he’s always frowning.”

“Yeah, but couldn’t you say he’s kinda... Tall, Dark and Handsome?” Jemma looked up and laughed incredulously.

“Tall, dark and _brooding_ more like,” she giggled. Jemma couldn’t help herself; Skye was so cute when she smiled. She grinned back.

“But you know what I mean...” She trailed off. “He’s the star of the football team....”

“Isn’t your friend on the way to replacing him?”

“Trip?” Jemma smirked proudly. “I suppose he is...”

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. Ward and I have never exchanged more than two words. Why would I be interested in him?”

“Less talking,” Professor May warned from the other end of the classroom. Both girls looked up and nodded avidly, turning back to their screws. They continued talking, but in a lower tone. Professor May decided not to point out that she could still hear them.

“I mean, would you date a girl you didn’t know, Fitz?” Jemma blinked for a second, taken aback. She was taken aback by the fact that Skye said “girl” for a second, because her whole body flooded with a terror as the question ‘how did she know’ rose to her mind. Of course, the second Skye said ‘Fitz,’ Jemma remembered. She tried to hide her look of terror with an awkward laugh and a cough.

“A girl I didn’t know?” she repeated, awkwardly. Skye gave Jemma a searching glance. Jemma looked down awkwardly and coughed again. “I suppose not,” she admitted. Then she remembered she was meant to be a boy. “Except if I found her hella fine?”

“Hella fine?” Skye repeated, snorting. “Did you just actually say hella fine out loud?!” Jemma blushed crimson and looked down at her computer circuits again.

“Man you are such a nerd, Jimmy.” Jemma stared down at her circuts.

“You’re a nerd,” she mumbled back.

“Great come back,” Skye teased. Jemma just bit her lip.

“Well, will you consider it? Dating him, that is?”

“How about we make it a double date? I’ll go out with him if you’ll tag along.”

“But I don’t have anyone...”

“You’ll find someone.” Skye grinned. Jemma really wished her heart would stop fluttering every time Skye did that. She had _circuits_ to build.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u know that im rewriting this movie to make it be A MILLION TIMES LESS CISSEXIST (ive been really upset about that today apologies friends)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh-huh,” Jemma agreed absently, surprised at the unpleasant twist in her stomach at the idea of Ward kissing Skye. Somehow, Skye deserved better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U 2 ALL UR SUPPORT (also sorry for the mega lateness, had a semester from hell, but im back now)

“What?”

“I asked you whether or not you’d come on a date with me.”

“Seriously, Jemma?”

“Please, Trip. I promised Skye I would go with her and Ward!”

“Why can’t you ask a girl?”

“I don’t know any girls!”

“Why don’t you ask Skye to ask a girl for you?”

“Trip!”

“Fine! Fine! I’m just going to go ruin my reputation even more.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, by seeing  on a date with you!”

“Because I’m a boy?”

“No! Because you look like a fucking twink, Jemma! Why can’t I  take out Ward, and you take Skye?”

“You’d rather go on a date with Ward than with me?!”

“It would definitely be better for my reputation.” Jemma huffed and crossed her arms.

“Rude,” she muttered. Trip smirked and punched her in the shoulder lightly.

“You know you don’t help yourself much when you read books about programming at breakfast. Since when do you like programming, anyway?”

“Skye leant me this book!” Jemma huffed, gesturing at it in front of her. She was proud to say that she had nearly finished it. Trip noticed that too and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh god.” He muttered. Jemma looked up and raised her eyebrows.

“What?” She asked. “Was that you agreeing to come on a date with me?” Trip sighed loudly again, but this time in mocking annoyance as her threw up his hands in defeat.

“Whatever. Yes!” Jemma squeaked in excitement, but Tripp continued: “I’ll go on your dumb date with you and your new girlfriend.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Don’t call her that.” She scolded him.

“What?” Trip looked around innocently. “She’s totally into you.” Jemma batted his arm.

“No, she isn’t!” She denied steadily. “She likes Ward!” Trip rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe you genuinely believe that.”

“Shut up, Trip.”

“What! I’m just pointing out that she leant you the book on ... C+? What’s that?”

“It’s a different programming language.”

“Yeah, so you’re the one she’s building a computer with and teaching her special nerd skills. She’s talked to Ward twice since the semester started!” Jemma was about to gleefully point out that she had talked to Ward though, when Trip quickly added: “and both times it was to ask him whether you were around.”

“Poor Ward,” Jemma sighed.

“Poor Jemma,” Trip agreed.

“Who’s Jemma?” Skye asked cheerfully, falling into step with them.

Trip and Jemma were walking back from class; they had their class of the day close to each other. It was Wednesday, so the one day that Tripp didn’t also have soccer practice after class. They were walking back towards the boarding house when Skye fell into step next to Jemma. Jemma blushed and coughed (her new go to ‘help me Trip’ cry).

“Jemma is Jimmy’s step sister.”

“Your step sister is called Jemma? Is that why you’re nickname is Jimmy?” Jemma did not see how those two were related, so she just nodded.

“Yes,” she decided. “That’s why.”

“What’s up with Jemma? Why isn’t she here?” Skye asked curiously. Trip shot Jemma a look.

“Good question,” he agreed. “Why isn’t Jemma here?” Jemma gulped. She had prepared for Fitz’s backstories elaborately. She could tell Skye and Trip how her fictional version of Fitz had felt in every single one of his GSCE exams and the exact perameters of the house he and his mother had lived in before moving in with Jemma, but she had not prepared a story for Jemma.

Jemma had been unimportant in her preparations. And now she had an inqustive set of eyes (such a warm colour of brown), staring at Jemma.

“Jemma is...sick?” Jemma squeaked. Skye rolled her eyes.

“Do you mind?” She asked Trip, before unceremoniously dragging Jemma away. “You’re an awful liar,” she said quickly. Jemma waved bye to Tripp and then fell into step next to Skye.

“Am not,” she mumbled, offended. Skye smirked and then dragged her into an empty classroom.

“What did you tell Ward?” She demanded. Jemma raised an eyebrow and looked around confused.

“I told him you said yes!”

“Was that it?”

“No, I mentioned that it was a double date.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, he said he was free Friday and he wanted to know whether or not you were free on Friday. I said I would ask you.”

“Did you give him my number?”

“No?”

“Okay, because he’s been acting weird all day.”

“Weird how?” Skye handed Jemma her phone. Jemma looked down surprised; the battered iPhone was a lot heavier than her own (an older model, she realised). The text screen, however, was the same. It showed 9 unanswered text messages from Ward. Jemma arched an eyebrow. Skye snorted dryly.

“That’s not even the worst of it,”she said, flicking at her screen and opening her facebook app. Jemma nearly dropped then phone as she yelped in surprise. Skye’s screen was zoomed in to a single request in her notifications. “Grant Douglas Ward wants to be in a relationship with you.” Facebook cheerfully told Skye. Jemma stared and then handed her back the phone.

“I promise,” she began slowly, “I said nothing that would give him this idea. All I said was ‘double date’! I mean, I didn’t even give him your number!”

“I know this isn’t on you,” Skye murmured, sighing. “I’m just...confused?”

“I can tell him to stop.”

“Can you?”

“Or I mean… Just go on the date with us? I’ve convinced Tripp to join us,”

“As your date?”

“Yes!” Skye stared at Jemma, slightly taken aback. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

“You never told me you were gay,” she muttered. Jemma blinked and opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again.

“I prefer queer?” She settled on finally. It was difficult; Jemma liked everyone, and Fitz did too, she supposed. But Fitz prefered people who protected him; Jemma prefered people like… Skye. She bit her lip and forced herself to look up, only to catch something odd flicker in Skye’s eyes before she perked up again.

“It’ll be fun,” she decided. “I mean, Ward can’t be that bad, right?”

 

Later, Jemma decided that this question from Skye had jinxed it. Even after she sat in her dorm room and patiently explained to Ward that adding a girl as his girlfriend on facebook before their first date was creepy, Ward had dramatically claimed he had no idea how to talk to girls. Jemma had to do a double take and just sighed loudly.

“What do you mean you can’t talk to girls?”

“What do girls talk about?” He’d asked, eyes wide.

“The exact same boys talk about,” Jemma snapped. Ward raised an eyebrow.

“She wants me to talk about soccer with her?” He asked, voice tinged with excitement. Jemma sighed, putting down her physics textbook and sliding to the edge of her bed.

“Ward, girls like to talk about what they’re interested in,” she explained calmly. Ward made a face.

“How do I know what she’s interested in?” He asked. Jemma smiled encouragingly at him.

“How do you think?” She asked, feeling like a mother trying to steer a child in the right direction. His forehead furrowed.

“Asking her?” He offered, slightly confused. Jemma sighed loudly and got up.

“Let’s do a roleplay,” she decided. Ward blushed a deep crimson. “NOT LIKE THAT,” Jemma added hurriedly. Ward blinked.

“How then?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’ll pretend I’m a girl. And you be you. Now try and talk to me!”

“Hi my name is Ward what do you like talking about im good at soccer and also sometimes economics though the math can be hard I also really like the US team in soccer even though we barely win and -” Jemma held up a hand and snapped his name.

“Ward!” Ward looked up, surprised.

“Yes?” He asked, tentatively.

“Can you hear yourself? You need to ask questions-”

“I did!” Ward protested, but Jemma just continued talking.

“-and give her time to answer them!”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“Well, she agreed to go on this date with you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but what if she doesn’t have an answer?”  
“She’ll say ‘I don’t know’, Ward. This isn’t the end of the world.”

“Ugh.” Ward threw himself on his bed. “I wish dates were just kissing. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“Uh-huh,” Jemma agreed absently, surprised at the unpleasant twist in her stomach at the idea of Ward kissing Skye. Somehow, Skye deserved better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO DID U KNOW while ur waiting for this i DID write another skimmons fic thats 10k long????? it doesn't not get enough love for how proud of it I am and i have NO SHAME in telling u guys about it


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